


Promise to Stay Conscious

by Alys_Holmes



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Death, Drabble, Gen, Implied Death, Lua - Bright Eyes, it isnt any of the amis, pretty damn sad!, there is nothing happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 14:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12608220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alys_Holmes/pseuds/Alys_Holmes
Summary: Grantaire's life takes him into the paths of many of Paris' fallen, the souls who have slipped between the cracks and gotten lost in the march of the city. Sometimes they slip between Grantaire's fingers too.





	Promise to Stay Conscious

**Author's Note:**

> So this was inspired from a Grantaire playlist I found on Spotify, I got stuck on the song and couldn't stop seeing Grantaire and his relationship to this song, why he would sing it and who it was about. Please enjoy!
> 
> Song inspiration: Lua by Bright Eyes

As always there was a gentle murmur of chatter that crested in waves before settling into gentle background noise as Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac prepared for the meeting. It was a time to relax and enjoy each other's company while they waited for their leader to ready himself. Everyone was present save for the resident cynic, who often presented himself at the last moment before the start of the meeting, despairing of the gods who cursed him to always forget his wallet and forcing him to walk.

Bahorel had just finished regaling a largely exaggerated tale of boxing prowess when the door to the upper seating that the Amis had claimed as their meeting space was pushed open, admitting a dark figure. Bahorel turned and laughed, catching sight of a familiar mop of unruly hair that had been tamed, a shock both for its rarity and its difficulty. "'Aire! Look at you! No paint on your clothes, no nest on your head, where are you coming from, a funeral?"

Grins and laughter erupted around the room but began to fall and fade as Grantaire picked his head up, seeming to notice the rest of the occupants for the first time. His eyes were red rimmed and hollow, a wavering smile was pasted onto the artist's face as he struggled for a light hearted tone, "Ah, yes my friend. The death of society, its's.... Ah. My apologies. I seem to be out of quips this evening."

Bahorel immediately regretted his words and began to stand "'Aire, I am so sorry-"

By this point everyone's attention was firmly on the man still in the doorway and all thoughts of revolution were cast away. Bahorel froze, halfway to standing, the boisterous and charismatic man stuck in indecision and unsure of his actions. Jehan rose fully and walked over to their friend, grasping his hand tightly and offering silent support.

Grantaire's eyes grew watery and he let out a short bark, rubbing furiously at his face to clear his sight. "I uh, did not mean to interrupt. I had hoped the meeting had already begun and I might slip in without much distraction."

Enjolras was the first to respond, his voice incredulous, "We aren’t so cruel to expect that of you."

Grantaire's grip on Jehan's hand tightened and he looked straight into Enjolra's eyes, a joke quick to his lips but falling quickly to a desperate plea, "I've never missed a meeting Apollo, not going to break that now... please. I can't. This is the only place I can imagine being right now"

His voice soft, Enjolras nodded gently, "of course, we are your friends. Whatever you need of us."

And it is this, this gentle offer of support from the man of his adoration that breaks loose the dam that had held back his tears. Words that would have been offered to any in the group, were a shock to hear directed at him, almost just as much as the immediate agreements and offers of comfort that followed from the rest.

His hand already in their own, Jehan guided R to the floor as softly as they could as his knees rapidly gave out beneath him and a sob was torn from his throat. Eponine ran downstairs while Courfeyrac dropped his papers and rushed over to help Jehan hold up R's weight. Joly pulled out one of the packs of tissues he kept with him and slipped them over by R's leg, ready for when he needed them. Boss grabbed a blanket from the box by the door and wrapped it around his shoulders, leaving an arm around him to hold him.

Eponine returned with a mug of something hot covered in whipped cream and sprinkles, whispering to Jehan and Boss that it was Musichetta's potent hot chocolate with marshmallows _and_ whipped cream.

Grantaire was aware of his friends gathering around him and his heart twisted sharp in his chest. Everything they did was a burning needle through the skin yet still it made him burn from the inside with fierce affection, scorching away the tendrils of guilt he began to feel for having derailed their normal meeting time.

Courfeyrac it was largely agreed, was the best at holding you while you cried and so it was he who heard Grantaire's whispered "she was all alone".

"Who R?"

The question seemed to surprise him, as though he hadn't realized his words were uttered aloud and he looked around at the group around him, realizing he held their undivided and sympathetic attention. Curious and ready to help, but never pushing for anything he wasn't ready to give. He loved them. Every last one of them. He would give his life to spare any one of theirs a hundred times over, and he with a sudden clarity, knew that none of them knew that, save perhaps Ep and Jehan. He felt warm from more than the blanket and in the safety of the circle his friends had created, he began to tell them of the woman he had known simply as "Lua".

 

_I met her at a bar. I'd seen her before, drinking nearly as much as me, and with someone like that, you generally don't talk to them, maybe an acknowledging nod but nothing more unless you're looking for something. I don't know what was different about that night, but I kept looking at her, and eventually she came and sat beside._

_"Lua" she said, and offered her hand._

_"R" was all I told her, "can I buy you a drink?"_

_I bought her a whiskey; it was a whiskey sort of night. Dark and windy, the kind of night the Horseman would love; you needed something to warm your bones on a night like that._

_We didn't talk much, not much to say. Didn't ask what she was doing there, didn't ask where she was going. Just… existed with her. It was nice, to have someone there who didn't want to_ know _your problems. Cause she had enough of her own. But she was still there, willing to sit with you._

_She asked me to go home with her and I did. It was... easy. Simple. Neither of us were there for love or fun, just company, something to make it easier to get to the morning._

_I saw her again a few days later and she smiled at me, asked if maybe I wanted to do something fun. It had been a... bad day. So I agreed, and she took me to a pretty shady looking club. I don't remember much of that night, I don't remember at_ all _what I put in my body. But she was right, it was fun._

_We would do that on and off, find each other when fate decided and when we needed it. Sometimes we just nodded from across the bar and let the other fill the empty seats with their ghosts. I knew she had a few, never asked, but you could tell sometimes. In her eyes..._

_Then... she started to get... smaller. Skinnier and less… present. I knew she had started doing something and I broke the rules._

_I asked._

_I was worried and I didn't want to see her get hurt and she shut me out._

_It was a while before we spoke again. And when she did, she was paper thin and I asked her to walk with me, told her there was a party we could go to, she took my hand and we went walking. It was snowing that night and she wasn't dressed for it. I couldn't get a cab and she fell... I had given her my jacket but she was freezing. I picked her up, took her to the subway, I was trying to get to the hospital. I just, I wanted to keep her awake until we got there, and she was so strong, trying to make sure I was okay when I was worried about her and then we got off and she started to close her eyes and I couldn't- I picked her up but- the doctors said they couldn't- I was holding her HAND and then she-_

 

Grantaire's body was wracked with uncontrolled sobs and the Amis pieced together the rest of the story. They had all wondered why R hadn't made it to Joly's party the other day. When he wasn't answering their messages they assumed he had forgotten to charge his phone again. Feuilly had noticed his absence in class but that was hardly new. The only real concern would have come if he had missed the meeting. And here he was.

 Courfeyrac held him close, letting him sob into his shoulder, running his hand gently over his back while Boss leaned against him, letting him cry until his heart was wrung out and empty.

 

The funeral had been held at two o'clock that afternoon. There hadn't been many in attendance but Grantaire had been there, and he met people who told him her real name and tried to tell him what she had done but he knew Lua's truth better than any of them did, sharing those dark places with her. They talked to him of their sister, their friend, their memories, and when the time came, he sang his song to her. Her song. That she was helping him write. He sang her song and he cried for her. And he said his goodbyes to his Lua.


End file.
